Over the past six years I have had a number of "crushes" or "infatuations" or "obsessions." Some have been more serious than others. Some have been rather violent and/or lasted for many months, but they have all had one thing in common. It was never a mutual thing. In most cases it was wildly improbably anyway: barriers of language, culture, beliefs, age. Perhaps it was subconsciously a purposeful thing. After all, if there was no real chance of mutuality, there was no real risk of rejection. I may have believed I really wanted things to work out, but perhaps, on some subconscious level, I knew I was not ready. It was the wrong time, or something like that.
Fast-forward to the now. Having lived in Wales happily for over a year, I have suddenly developed an "interest" in a young man of my acquaintance. Although he is not a student at the College or a member of my church, we are thrown in to company rather often. My interest was first sparked when we had a conversation about grammar - an actual mutual conversation, not a monologue by me with his eyes glazing over. It was fairly caught about four days later when I was privileged to be a part of a conversation about life, music, God and journey. The glimpses of his thought processes and experience in this conversation intrigued and attracted me. I was fairly caught.
A few days later, it was Saturday, he and I with one or two others "hung out" making pizzas, eating them, chatting and "jamming" with guitar, trumpet and voice. It was an awesome night. I was hopeful. Maybe something amazing was about to happen.
I have seen him various times since, usually in company, but the intriguing conversation has dried up. Any question I ask is answered briefly. This evening we spent at least 15 minutes in a room together with nothing being said except "thank you."
The whole thing is exasperating in the extreme. His behavior baffles me, but my own is just as bad. To anyone else I can chat, make conversation, or at least be comfortable in silence. Other guys I speak to by name, ask them to do things for me, but not this one. If we could both just be natural, maybe we'd get somewhere, but instead the two of us just sit like bumps, resolutely not looking at one another. . . well, maybe a glance now and then. Every now and then, something funny is said or done and we exchange a smile. I like his smile, and I think if only he could break out of the straight jacket and be the person behind his smile more often.
Who knows. Perhaps I make it all up. Perhaps it's all in my own head, my own perceptions, my own infatuation. Perhaps it is an entirely inappropriate thing to write about in a blog, but I wanted to put it down. I wanted to say how frustrated I was, and how impotent is that frustration. Now I have taken a deep breath. If it isn't him, it will be someone else. If it isn't now, it will be another time. My life does not depend on this working out the way I "want" it to, neither does my happiness, or my joy.
So what am I so worked up about?
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